


Great Power, Great Responsibility

by fictorium



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alien Biology, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Spider-Man Fusion, F/F, First Meetings, Museums, Spiders
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-09-26 09:11:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17139026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictorium/pseuds/fictorium
Summary: Prompt: Cat gets powers and can't control them.





	1. How It All Begins

**Author's Note:**

  * For [badwolfkaily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfkaily/gifts).



> This was a headcanon very much co-created and built with bridgetteirish and nocorkingfee - I'm so grateful they let me run with it when the occasion arose. Thank you!

Cat checks her watch as the car idles in the yellow zone outside Carter’s school, pleased that the driver finally remembered to display the placard in the window instead of having to be told _again_. The bell rang as they approached, but none of the familiar little faces from Carter’s fourth-grade class have emerged through the gates yet. 

Their teacher this year really is far too chatty. Doesn’t she realize that parents like Cat Grant need to move heaven and earth to be available for the school run? Getting an afternoon off like this is practically a stock market event, but she’d never grudge it for time with her son. She will grudge anyone cutting that time short and if Miss Talk About Your Feelings, Carter is going to make him late, she’d better not be too attached to her job because--

“Hi, Mom!” Carter opens the door and throws himself into the town car, right over her lap and into the free seat beside her. In her tizzy about getting his teacher fired, Cat managed to miss his approach entirely. 

“Hello, sweetheart.” She’s used to the rough-and-tumble nature of raising a growing boy by now, but he’s getting big enough that the impact of his arrival leaves her a little winded. They’re going to have to have a talk about that sometime soon. Especially the effects of book-stuffed backpacks being dragged across her bare shins. Bruises aren’t something she likes to explain away, so there’ll be another run of tailored pants while her pencil skirts are temporarily retired out of the rotation. 

“Where to, Miss Grant?” The driver asks, and it’s only then she realizes that her secret plan needs to be revealed.

“Well, Gavin. Why don’t we head downtown and see if there are any parking spots outside NaCNaH?”

Carter is rooting around in his bag for something, already buckled in, but his head snaps up with the comic reaction Cat was hoping for. 

“Wait, NaCNaH? But they’re closed until the new insect exhibit opens on Monday.”

“Closed to the public, yes,” Cat agrees. “But open to special guests like National City Natural History Museum’s biggest benefactor? Well, that’s a different story. Do you know who that is, Carter?”

“Last year it was Lord Technologies,” Carter knows everything about the irritatingly nicknamed museum, right down to the bricks it’s built from. Cat’s so proud of his intelligence and his enthusiasm. 

“And as they’ll announce in a special press conference next week, this year it’s CatCo. Ever since you told me that you’re interested in… nature, I wanted to make sure that National City had the best and most interesting materials in the country.”

“Really? You did that just for me?”

“Carter, I would do anything for you. But most importantly, CatCo’s donation means that the museum will be free for all school-age children for the next five years. While I want you to have the best, we have to make sure it’s accessible to everyone else who wants to learn, too.”

“You’re the best, Mom.” Carter gestures to hug her, but they’re both safely belted in. Cat blows him a little kiss instead, and he catches it the same way he’s been doing since he was tiny. It soothes her in a way nothing else does, nudging aside the stresses of the day and the nagging worry that he’s growing up so fast, that it’s just a matter of time before she fails as a mother and loses him like she lost Adam. Anyone who’s ever called Cat confident (or, well, arrogant) would be shocked to hear her insecurity when it comes to her children.

She settles back against the seat, pleased when Carter starts pulling up details about the exhibit on his tablet, and allows herself to answer just a few pressing emails. 

***

“I don’t understand,” Kara says, aware her tone is potentially creeping toward a whine. “We have until Monday. Why do I have to scrub up and show someone around today?”

“Because,” Hank says, crossing his arms over his chest as he stands in the doorway of her office. “When the people who pay our bills and keep the lights on ask for things, then we lowly museum employees have to scramble around and make it happen. We’re just the ants in the anthill, and this is uh, the Queen Bee?”

“Please, you’re hurting me now. Anything else I need to know?”

“You have some mud on your cheek. Improving the habitats again?”

Kara nods. She wants all of her residents to be as comfortable as possible, surrounded by everything familiar that will feel like home. If that means sourcing the right kind of soil and measuring the pH of the water in every tank, she’s more than willing to do it. This newly expanded exhibition is a chance to try and save some very endangered species. Every section is aiming for that, but her colleagues trying to save the polar bear or the tiger have a much easier time than Kara does with her specialty.

It’s not everyone that wants to save spiders, is the problem. Most people would be all too happy to see another few species of them wiped out every week, a fact that breaks Kara’s heart and makes her not trust humans very much at all. Sure, arachnids might look quite different to homo sapiens, and admittedly their fondness for dark corners and producing venom can be a tricky thing for co-existence, but aren’t they living things? Living, breathing, sentient beings who have families and maybe even little hopes and dreams of their own. 

Kara likes to think so, anyway. It’s why she made her way through a Bachelors in Biology, a Masters in Entomology and a PhD in Arachnology to get this dream job of hers. Half the year based out of the museum writing up her research, the rest of the time traveling the world to uncover new species and encourage conservation of the most endangered ones. It’s a job she’s uniquely qualified for, and not just because of her enthusiasm for learning about the animals of Earth. Having landed on the planet only thirteen years previously, she threw herself into learning everything about it. 

On her third night in the Danvers’ house, a spider had scuttled across her ceiling, its movements reminding her of the Kal-X robots back on Krypton. Just like everything else, those house robots were gone forever. Still, Kara found small comfort in the eight-legged insects and began to look out for them at every turn. _Achearanea tepediorum,_ the common American house spider, had been the subject of that first encounter. When Alex had come into the room to find Kara staring at a spider on the windowsill, she’d killed the thing with the nearest book: Kara’s American English dictionary.

It had been their first real fight, a screaming match that Eliza and Jeremiah had to pull apart before Kara lost control of her considerable strength. Unable to calm herself, Kara had sobbed for hours about the cruelty of killing another living thing, of how unnecessary it was. She’d explained then to the Danvers the full story of what happened to Krypton. They’d known the scale of her journey but not the reason for it, and why she could never go back.

To her credit, Alex had apologised that night after lights out. She’d warned Kara about the poisonous spiders they had in California, even if other places had many more. It was the first time Kara had ever heard of Australia and how many things there could kill a human. Even when they discovered she shared Kal-El’s invulnerability, thanks to a Black Widow not being able to sting her, Kara had mentally crossed Australia off her list of places to visit on principle.

She makes her way to the locker rooms to clean up, selecting a fresh white shirt from her locker and the only option she has to replace her soil-streaked pants: a pair of khaki cargo shorts. Still, with her hair tied back and her boots brushed down, she looks downright presentable. Five minutes glad-handing with some rich lady and her spoiled brat who probably won’t care about anything but the venomous specimens, and Kara will be free to get back to her real work. 

***

The museum isn’t one Cat particularly likes, but she’d grown used to it over the years in the name of all Carter’s educational visits, whether with school or just for his own curiosity. It’s the one trait she’s been sure to encourage at every turn, whether she likes the subject matter or not.

Bugs, though? This is a particular test of her love because Cat has never been big on anything that crawls, pinches, or stings. She offers a tight smile to the handsome man who approaches them at the private entrance, sharp in his suit and tie.

“Ms Grant? I’m Hank Henshaw and it is a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” He extends his hand, and Cat decides to let one use of the dreaded term slip. She shakes his hand and moves to introduce Carter, but Hank is already on the move, crouching slightly to reduce the height difference for the boy’s sake. 

“And you must be Carter Grant. I heard you’re something of an expert on our exhibits. We’d just love to know what you think of the new Arachnology wing.”

Carter takes Hank’s hand and shakes it for a brief second, but eye contact is proving too much in the moment. Cat runs a reassuring hand through Carter’s curls, and he relaxes a little. Henshaw must be good with kids, because he takes it all completely in stride. 

“Now I know not everyone likes a running commentary. I’ve got the headsets here where you can listen to the information at each station, or our newest expert will be available with any of the more advanced questions you might have. I can tell you know your isopods from your amphipods, Carter.”

It means nothing to Cat, but Carter lights up at the mention. They’re lead in through the main hall towards the brand new wing, and Cat’s heels echo on the marble floor. Carter has picked up the thread of the conversation, although he’s still holding on to her hand. She listens to him peppering Henshaw with questions and feels sure she’s making the best possible use of her time. 

“Ah, here’s Dr Danvers now. We were very lucky to get her here. Harvard wanted her, and Oxford too. But she’s a local girl, so National City won out in the end.”

“Hey, Hank! Are the pain in the… you must be our special guests!” The woman almost falls over herself at the sight of them, and Cat smirks. Well, she says a woman, but that youthful complexion and the long side braid practically still scream ‘girl’. Still, to be a doctor of anything she must be at least approaching thirty. Which leaves very little excuse to be wearing shorts in a professional context, even if the legs revealed are somewhat… shapely.

“This is really your most impressive and knowledgeable member of staff?” Cat makes no attempt to hide the skepticism. “Carter, why don’t you give Dr Danvers here a little test?”

“Mom!”

“Carter, I brought you here to speak to the experts. I’m just making sure that’s exactly who we’re getting.”

“You know,” the other woman interrupts, even as she fusses with her glasses and blushes deep pink. “You’d think a famously feminist woman like yourself, Ms Grant, wouldn’t make the assumption that a woman in her field is underqualified. You probably know that most of the time women have to work twice as hard to even be considered for senior positions, even when they’re by far the best candidate.”

Cat opens her mouth to conjure some witty retort, but damn if Sindy-ana Jones doesn’t have her fair and square.

“I apologise, Doctor. I’m sure you’ll dazzle Carter with your insights as we look at all the… bugs.”

“Bugs!” Danvers gasps right as Carter groans “Mom!”

“Oh fine, the arthopods,” she corrects. “Is that better?”

“Much,” Danvers answers instead of Carter. “Although I suppose in your field you’re more of an etymologist than an entomologist.”

Cat resists the urge to roll her eyes, but only by a very fine margin. 

“I’ll leave you all to it,” Hank says, checking his watch. “I hope you have a wonderful time.”

Which leaves the three of them outside the very impressive new facade for the Arachnology Wing. 

“Okay,” Danvers announces, ponytail bouncing as she moves off to swipe her pass at the security gate. “Who’s ready to learn about spiders?”

***

Hank could _totally_ have warned Kara that the special guest is none other than Cat Grant. One of the first touchstones with Earth culture that Kara ever developed was watching Cat’s talk show every day after school. It helped her quickly learn the ways humans interacted, why they had this cult of celebrity that simply hadn’t existed on Krypton. More than that, Kara had been fascinated by Cat herself. That effortless confidence and quick wit were something an awkward teenage alien could only dream of emulating. For a while Kara had even considered a career in journalism before the siren call of exploration and conservation had called out to her. 

Alex and Eliza are going to flip when they hear who Kara’s visitor is, and they’re going to tease her shamelessly about her big old crush, too. Although maybe the crush is waning a little if Kara’s first act was to accuse the most powerful person in National City of being a bad feminist. 

Still. The kid seems cute. He can’t be more than nine years old in Earth terms, and Kara feels a pang of recognition in the tentative way he interacts with the world. Part of her wants to just give him a hug and tell him that it gets easier, with practice and lots of love in his corner. The sensible part of her knows that kind of contact would have to be earned and invited, and so she shares her next best form of friendship: talking about the things she loves the most. 

“Wow!” Carter grows in confidence as they explore, and soon he’s chatting to Kara as though they’ve known each other for years. It’s only when she notices Cat hanging back, watching them with a frown, that Kara risks a quiet personal question.

“Is your mom okay with this? With us geeking out together?”

“What? Oh, yeah. She probably just doesn’t know why I get on with you better than other people. Between you and me, she gets a little jealous when I like anyone else. It doesn’t happen very often.”

“Carter?” Cat seems to have noticed their whispering.

“All good!” Kara calls out. “You’re not too bored, I hope?”

“No, there have been some… interesting views.” Cat drags her gaze up and down Kara in a way that makes her feel almost naked. “Who knew that wearing shorts to work could be so aesthetically pleasing. Tell me, Dr Danvers, are you a runner?”

“Not as such?” Kara never knows how to answer these things. Very few people know of her alien origins, and not even all of them know about the powers Earth’s yellow sun gives her. “I try to keep fit, you know how it is.” If she admitted her takeout order from last night, both Grants would probably faint. 

“Mom?”

“Yes, darling?”

It’s nice how Cat’s whole demeanor lights up whenever Carter asks for her attention. It reminds Kara of her own mother, how important she always felt when the full attention of Alura In-Ze, Grand Judge of the High Council, turned on little Kara. 

“You know we talked about pets last month…”

“Carter Grant! I’ve already said no to a puppy and a Syrian hamster. If you think I’m somehow going to allow one of these terrifying creatures into our home-”

“Actually the average domestic residence is home to hundreds of arachnids,” Kara supplies, enjoying the way Cat blanches. “I could point each out of the likely species if you want to go round again, including the Black Widows?”

“Don’t you dare,” Cat says. “Does that mean we’ve seen the whole thing? It’s certainly taken long… a while.” She catches herself when Carter looks disappointed. 

“There’s one part we haven’t seen,” Carter says, bumping Kara gently with his elbow. “What’s back there?”

“Oh, just my office,” Kara lies, casting around for something fascinating to distract him. “Hey, did we look at the _Adelocosa anops_? All the way from Hawaii, this guy.”

“We saw him on the way round,” Carter reminds her. “The Kauai cave wolf spider is the one with no eyes, right? Because they live in darkness the whole time.”

“Right,” Kara agrees. Why did he have to be smart enough to retain everything she taught him. 

“There’s definitely a case back there,” Cat says, seeming to sense her son is being denied something. “If this is some kind of members-only exclusive, I can assure you we qualify.”

“It’s not that, it’s just…” Whatever argument Kara can think of, she knows it will be overcome. She really doesn’t want to end a pleasant afternoon with a complaint going to Hank. It won’t cost her much, all told. “Okay, come with me.”

***

“I don’t get it,” Carter says, pulling the guidebook from his bag and then scrolling through something on his phone. “That shouldn’t be possible, those have… I mean, ten legs? Wait.”

Cat looks at the simple glass tank, notices the plants seem quite different to the displays they’ve been shown so far. The huge, nondescript creatures occupy opposite ends of the large contained space and don’t seem interested in any visitors to their enclosure.

“I’m sure Dr Danvers-”

“Please, call me Kara,” she insists, and Cat nods.

“I’m sure Dr Danvers will explain why you don’t recognise these ones, Carter.”

“Are they… wait, are they aliens?” Carter asks. “Oh my god, that is so cool.”

Cat takes an instinctive step back. She’s always been a supporter of aliens’ rights, since long before Superman came on the scene, but she’s also seen first hand some of the destruction wrought on Metropolis by poor handling and intergalactic misunderstandings. 

“They’re not dangerous,” Kara snaps, before looking quite ashamed of herself. “They’re just the last two of their kind. They were found in the hull of a crash-landed spaceship twelve years ago, but they’ve never quite been able to adapt to the environment here. I’ve done my best for them, but given that they won’t be able to mate, these are the last two of their kind.”

“Why don’t they stick together then?” Carter asks. “If they only have each other.”

Kara lays a hand on top of the glass and looks down at the two spiders, as far from each other as can be. “I’m not sure. Sometimes I think they’d like that but other times they seem quite determined to be all alone in the universe. I blame myself, I didn’t find them in the wreckage until two weeks after landing. They had a rough time and only just survived.”

“Carter, sweetheart?”

“Yes, mom?”

“Could you be an angel and get me some bottled water? I saw a vending machine back at the entrance.”

She hands him a handful of notes from her purse without looking, and Carter knows better than to argue. As he trudges off, Cat approaches Kara who still has her back turned. As her shoulders hunch beneath the white shirt, it’s even more apparent that she’s in fantastic shape. 

“It was your ship?” Cat asks with the same caution she’d deploy in a sensitive interview. “That you discovered them in?”

Kara looks up, startled. She hadn’t meant to disclose any such thing. 

“It’s okay. It’s not something I would tell anyone. I just… where did you come from?”

“Krypton,” Kara says. “It’s long gone now. My parents got me out with moments to spare.”

“Then you and Superman-”

“His pod went first. Mine was knocked off course and I lost some… a lot of time. When I arrived he was all grown-up. I just had to find a place for myself. He was so used to being alone that I don’t think he knew how to make room for me. I don’t blame him, of course I don’t. But…”

“Sometimes you feel like one of these spiders.” Cat lays a gentle hand on Kara’s shoulder, the instinct to offer comfort overwhelming. “I’m sorry, Kara. Do you have people here? I’m sure lots of people want to be your friend, I just wondered…”

“I have a great foster family, yes, and some wonderful friends. I know I’m lucky to even be alive, so I try to make the most of it. Having some tragedy in my past it… it doesn’t make me special.”

“You spend your days trying to save creatures that most of the people on this planet try to ignore. No matter what effect losing them would have on our climate. Yes, I can see that you’re nothing special, Kara Danvers. Not at all.”

“Ms Grant-”

“Cat.”

“Cat, I--”

“Would you like to come to dinner sometime? With Carter, of course. You two can talk spiders or whatever else you like. And then maybe when he’s gone to bed, we could share some wine and talk about almost _anything_ other than spiders?”

It’s bold, too bold. There’s no indication that Kara is even queer. Well, the boots maybe. Those are at least bicurious. 

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Does that not happen often? I find it hard to believe with your whole…” Cat gestures in Kara’s general direction. “Hot and nerdy happens to be just my type. The fact that my son already worships you doesn’t hurt your chances. But mostly I’m a busy woman and I don’t have time for some Jane Austen comedy of errors where we don’t even hold hands until six months in. Is any of that a problem?”

“Is… no. No! I mean, I’d like that. Very much.”

“Wonderful. I’d give you my card but honestly, it’s been years since I gave out personal information that freely. Do you have a phone?”

Kara seems to be reacting in slow motion but Cat doesn’t click her tongue or tap her foot. A moment later Kara gathers herself and hands over her unlocked phone. Typing in her number, Cat quickly saves it and dials herself. With that she has Kara’s number saved too, and they’re all set for future communication.

“Mom, the vending machine was off,” Carter says as he returns. “Sorry.”

“That’s okay. Kara was just saying that she has a ton of work to do before the opening, so we’re going to go for now. Is that all right?”

Carter nods, looking between them curiously. “Can we come again?”

“Of course. And Kara might pop round for dinner some night. Think we can allow that?”

“Cool! Hey Kara, can you bring some of your spider friends? They might like the change in environment.”

“Okay, the first rule is no bringing your work to my home with you. I don’t care how many spiders live in the walls, I am not having tarantulas at the dinner table, you two.” On this point, Cat is adamant. Kara seems to recognize the tone as quickly as Carter does. 

“I promise not to drag any suspecting spiders into your lair, Cat,” Kara teases. “But for now, let me walk you guys out.”

***

Alone in the Arachnology wing again Kara opens the Kryptonian tank outside her office, reaching down to stroke each of her dwindling specimens. 

“Hey you guys,” she says in her mother tongue. “I finally showed you off to someone other than Alex. Maybe that will perk you up, huh?”

The boy spider, the one she had named Jor in honor of her father, remains unmoved. Astra, the female, simply continues her quest to bite Kara’s unbreakable skin, never giving up regardless of how often she fails. 

“Well anyway, I’ve got a date with Cat Grant. Wait ‘til I tell Alex and Eliza about this. They’ll never try to get me on Tinder again.”

***

Four dates later and Cat is barely home herself before the knock on the apartment door comes. She’s just about had time to change from her work suit into a sheer black cocktail dress and pin her hair up, but in her hurry to greet Kara, she doesn’t bother to slip on some heels. 

“Wow,” Kara says as the door opens. “I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to how… to how stunning you are.”

Cat greets her with a soft kiss on the lips. 

“Says the girl who came dressed to kill. You’re a walking advert for a female James Bond in that suit. And I can think of some uses for this later,” she adds, running her fingers down the black silk tie that perfectly complements Kara’s tailored jacket and pants. Her shirt is spotless white, just like the first day they met, and it’s only the fact of how good she looks that stops Cat jumping her right there in the hallway. 

After all, tonight is very much the night. Carter off with his father, three dates with lots of making out and wandering hands barely stopped behind them… there’s a real risk of combustion if they don’t move things along soon. 

“Did you make a reservation? I didn’t know how you’d feel about eating out…” Kara trails off as she realizes what she just said. “Oh boy, I uh…”

“I feel quite positive about it,” Cat confirms. “But since we have this place to ourselves, I thought we’d eat in.”

“Makes sense.” Kara wanders to the balcony as she always does. Something about being up this high always draws her to edges and ledges. She confessed last week that she has some unusual powers. Cat’s willing to bet half of her CatCo stock that one of them is the ability to fly.

“So we can order something,” Cat says, slipping an arm around Kara’s waist beneath her blazer. It earns her a kiss from Kara, pulling Cat closer with gentle hands on her shoulders. They’re both still a little giddy over all that. The fabric shifts against Cat’s arm and she realizes that she still isn’t wearing any shoes, the granite of the balcony cool beneath her feet. It doesn’t seem to matter, much like dinner, as long as Kara keeps kissing her.

As they move back towards the apartment, and most likely the bed or any other sturdy surface, Cat stubs her toe just a little. The pain to her big toe is a moment of sharpness that makes her gasp against Kara’s mouth, but since they’re already halfway to undressing each other, there’s hardly time to stop and pout about it. 

They’ll have plenty of time to work up an appetite, and maybe later Kara can kiss it better for good measure.

***

She is finally getting naked with Cat Grant. 

Later, Kara will tell herself that’s why she didn’t hear the unusual scuttling sound. Between her super hearing and her day job, she’s used to identifying all sorts of scrabbling and scratching sounds. 

But in that moment, nothing but the gorgeous woman in her arms matters. Not even food. And for someone with Kara’s metabolism, there’s no greater compliment than that.

**TO BE CONTINUED...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting strange in the world of Cat and Kara...

“Mmm.” Cat can’t quite form words yet, but she does like waking up to the feeling of careful fingers combing through her hair.

“Morning,” Kara whispers, just loudly enough to make whispering pointless. She presses a kiss to Cat’s bare shoulder. “Thanks for letting me sleep over.”

“Ungh,” Cat offers in reply, before forcing herself to wake the rest of the way up. “You’re welcome. I know I was too exhausted to walk you out, anyway. You seem full of energy though.”

“Well, one of the perks of my non-Earth origins is that I don’t really get tired. And I’m pretty much invincible. Enhanced hearing, enhanced sight...”

“And you can fly,” Cat finishes for her, turning around while still in Kara’s loose embrace. 

“How did--”

“At one point, we were _definitely_ floating. Nice trick, by the way. Almost as impressive as supporting my whole body with one hand. If I didn’t know you weren’t human, you certainly would have given yourself away last night. Any other tricks I didn’t see?”

Kara blinks a few times before her eyes suddenly glow red, and then white-hot. She blasts a laser from them across the room at the plant on the windowsill, singeing off one tiny leaf.

“You know, I hate to do that to any living thing, but I didn’t think you’d appreciate me scorching my initials in your ceiling.”

“Well, it might set the sprinklers off,” Cat agrees. “But it’s certainly a more interesting way to mark your notch on my bedpost.”

“Oh.” Kara seems to deflate in an instant. Cat has a quick mental rewind, realizing how that sounded. “Not that one single notch is all you’ll be, I hope.”

The beaming smile is back, and Cat squints a little. It’s almost as blinding as the sunshine pouring in where she forgot to draw the curtains. “Any signs of life from Carter’s room? He’s back this morning, but I didn’t fix a time with Marcus.”

Kara tilts her head. “Nope. He’s probably still sound asleep at his dad’s. As he gets closer to his teens, he’ll want to sleep in more and more. Early rises are bad for adolescents, but your school system is in denial about this fact.”

“That just sounds like your adolescence was far too recent,” Cat says, a little grumpy. “But while we have a little more private time, let’s not look a gift horse in the mouth, hmm?”

“Good idea,” Kara agrees, rolling carefully on top of Cat, their bodies slipping against one another seamlessly again. “Now, let’s see what else you like, Cat.”

“Ow!” Cat says, biting back a curse as her toe bumps against Kara’s shin. “No, no, it’s fine. Carry on, Doctor Danvers. Carry on.”

***

Alex is waiting on the floor outside Kara’s apartment door as she whooshes her way home to change. The suit is rumpled, the shirt missing at least two buttons, and she doesn’t even try to keep the shit-eating grin off her face on seeing her sister. 

“Well, I won’t ask if you got third-date lucky. You basically have a neon sign above your head flashing ‘I got laid’.” Alex smacks Kara on the arm and tries to look disgusted. “Was it everything you hoped for?”

“And then some,” Kara replies, opening the door and letting them in. She can smell the donuts Alex has brought with her, and despite croissants at Cat’s, Kara’s stomach still rumbles like a baby lion. “God, Alex. She’s amazing. Not at all like her public persona, and yet somehow… she kind of is exactly that poised and snarky and… wow. Basically just wow. That is my official comment.”

“You’re a lost cause,” Alex groans, filling the coffeemaker and flipping it on. “Uh uh, no carbs until I get my coffee. Otherwise you won’t leave me anything to have with it.”

Kara pouts as she puts the bag back on the counter. “Give me a minute, okay? I need to clean up and get ready for part two.”

“Part two?” Alex calls after her as Kara zips around the apartment. When she’s done with her quick shower and dressed in more comfortable clothes, she joins her sister in the kitchen again to update her. 

“We’re taking Carter out this afternoon. I wanted to go to the Organic Farming Fair anyway, and we thought it might be a nice kid-friendly day out.”

“No museum duties? The post-opening chaos finally calming down?”

“Yeah,” Kara replies, watching Alex pour them both coffee before snatching her first donut from the bag. “Besides, unlike your FBI job there aren’t many spider-based emergencies. Not on the academic side of things, anyway.”

“You got the whole weekend off from your other job?” Alex asks, a little too casual. She swears to Kara that her FBI clearance doesn’t extend to all things Supergirl, but Alex always knows a little too much for that to truly be the case. Still, at least it’s like having an ally on the inside. Kara’s relationship with the government forces who police the alien population can be fraught at best. If she’s ever suddenly alien _non grata_ it’s comforting to know that Alex will be able to track her in the system somehow. 

“There hasn’t been any kind of invasion for months. The alien population here is mostly managed by the NCPD now. I’m just… good PR sometimes I guess.”

“Supergirl is way more than that. Mostly thanks to CatCo. Does she know? Cat, I mean. She seems the kind to try and work it out for the exclusive.”

“She knows I’m not human. Other than that, no. We might talk about it though. As long as it doesn’t put her at risk. I’ll give her up completely before I’ll put Cat or Carter in danger because of my night job.”

“I know,” Alex replied. “I’m just glad to see you’re not denying yourself a personal life this time. I want you to be happy.”

“Like you are with Maggie?” Kara teases, loving how it still makes Alex blush. “Okay, let’s see what damage I can do to these donuts before I have to go meet the Grants.”

***

Cat fully expects to hate the whole experience, and it’s almost irritating that she doesn’t. Instead of farmyard yuck and braying yokels, she’s discovered handcrafted quality products and kind, generous people who’ve gone out of their way to include Carter and explain no matter how many questions he has.

It certainly helps to have Kara on her arm, in all her tight tee, skinny-jeaned glory. It’s not lost on Cat how many admiring glances Kara gets, even if the woman herself is oblivious. The basket--yes, an honest to god Red Riding Hood _basket_ \--over Kara’s arm is overflowing with sweets and treats, and not for the first time Cat wonders if her academic salary covers the food bills.

“Mom, do you want some cotton candy? They have some over here.” Carter is a little flushed from running stall to stall in search of new discoveries. 

A memory stirs then, of her father taking her to the county fair. The sound of the rides, the squeals and laughter. A day without her mother disapproving of everything, clicking under her tongue or calling people unpleasant things in her constant muttering. 

“I’m fine,” she says, avoiding Kara’s concerned look.

It’s only later that she thinks of the cotton candy again, when she’s juggling keys and phone and a coffee cup back at the car. Her phone is the one that loses out, almost slipping from her grasp. Then in a split-second, it holds fast against her outstretched palm, almost glued in place. 

Sure enough when she puts the other things down and peels the phone from her palm she sees a sticky residue that has her reaching for the hand sanitizer and trying to locate the nearest sink. Carter must have gotten some of his sticky cotton candy on her, it’s just she doesn’t remember holding his hand or making any contact with him since he came back with a giant cloud of it. 

“Everything okay?” Kara asks from across the car.

“Of course,” Cat says, squirting the gel and rubbing her hands furiously. She wishes for a second she’d let Kara drive them there, but her hands are clear again when she grips the wheel. “Just the perils of mothering a growing boy.”

“Hey!” Carter says from the backseat, no evidence of his sticky snack anywhere on him. “What did I do?”

“Nothing, sweetheart,” Cat assures him. “I’m just being silly.”

***

Kara doesn’t want to out-stay her welcome, but Cat invites her back after the market like it’s a given. Even the interruption of a Supergirl call doesn’t upset the balance too much. Kara gets the alert, makes her excuses, and gets a simple kiss and ‘come back when you’re done’, even though Cat has no idea what she’s actually dashing off to do.

Dashing off to rescue a crashing helicopter in this case, saving all 6 occupants and setting them safely on the ground in the park just across the street from CatCo Worldwide Media. Kara takes that as a sign to actually go back to Cat’s like she wants to, instead of sending a text and trying to play it cool for a few days. She’s never bought into that Rules-based nonsense anyway, not least because Kara could never hide her feelings long enough to keep anyone waiting.

An exhausted Carter has gone to bed when Kara approaches the apartment. Ordinarily she would land on the roof, change, and sprint downstairs to Cat’s place. Tonight, she realizes she’s done with her last bit of hiding, touching down on the balcony in her full Supergirl uniform, right beside where Cat is waiting with a heavy crystal glass of Scotch.

“Well,” Cat says before the silence can stretch into unbearable. “That explains the resemblance at least.”

“Sorry I hadn’t…” Kara changes tack. “I had to be sure, about us, before I could tell you.”

Cat takes a sip of her drink, not looking over yet. “And what is it you’re sure of?”

“How much I like you,” Kara admits, the other ‘l’ word lingering on her tongue, but not yet. There’ll be time. “And how much you seem to like me too. If I’m wrong, then now would be a great time to tell me so.”

“You’re… not wrong.” Cat has never found this part easy. For all that she started her career writing overblown puff pieces about star-crossed celebrity lovers (and their sudden, acrimonious splits) she’s always come up short when sharing her own feelings. Carter has been the one exception, the one person she’s poured out every drop of love for, knowing there would always be more in reserve. 

“Then that’s good,” Kara saves them both, moving across to take Cat in her arms. “I’d like to get out of this suit, if you don’t mind.”

“So soon?” Cat teases, leaning in to claim a kiss. That feels considerably better, like they’ve picked up just where they left off. “At least keep it on until I’ve taken all this off.” All this is a surprisingly casual ensemble, fit for a market and not really for a hot date. Cat’s aware of Kara’s gaze on her though, leading her towards the bedroom. She takes her time to unbutton her jeans, even slower with each fastener on her shirt, even rolling the sleeves back down to prolong Kara’s evident agony.

Only when it comes to pulling the shirt down, it doesn’t seem to want to separate from her shoulder blades. _That_ has never happened before, and with only organic cotton in the shirt, there’s no reason it should be happening now.

“Need a hand?” Kara suggests, flicking her red cape to one side. She whisks around Cat to pull the shirt down her arms, but lets out a little gasp at the resistance. Using a little more of her strength it comes away, but Cat is instantly concerned at the silence.

“Kara?”

“Okay, don’t freak out.”

“Kara…”

“There’s something sticky on your shirt.” Kara comes around to sit on the bed, not quite showing Cat the material. 

“If it’s more of that infernal cotton candy I’m going to call the Mayor and have her outlaw the stuff within National City limits. It’s bad enough I had to endure sticky hands all round this afternoon.”

“No, it’s… well, I’d recognise it anywhere. Which means it’s probably my fault. I swear, I’ve been so careful about what I bring over here, and I always _always_ check my clothes and my bags before I leave work.”

“ _Ka-ra_ …” Cat doesn’t mean it to sound so schoolmarmish and scolding, but that’s considerably better than the shrieking freakout she can feel building. “Are you telling me I’ve had a spider spinning silk in my shirt all day?”

“Maybe? I mean, at first glance there’s nothing to worry about at all. It’s just silk, totally harmless. And look--” Kara zips around her again. “Not a mark on your skin, no bites or anything. So none of the scary varieties, I promise. I mean, it could be one of your resident… okay no, that’s probably not the case if it’s never happened before. I’ll just scan the whole place for spider activity and--”

“Never, _ever_ tell me what you see when you do that,” Cat finishes for her. “But go ahead. I’m going to burn that shirt on the grill on the balcony.”

“Hey! That’s not necessary!”

“Well I’m not putting it in the laundry with my other clothes. Care to help me out with some eye sizzle?”

“Fine,” Kara agrees, but she doesn’t look happy about it. “It really is an overreaction though. And if there were eggs--”

“Eggs?” Cat repeats at a frequency only dogs or aliens can hear. Kara quickly rethinks her strategy, taking the shirt outside and disposing of it. 

“Okay, I just need two minutes to arachnid-proof the property,” Kara promises on her return. Cat pulls on her silk robe, having very carefully shaken it out. “Then maybe we can get back to where we were? I really am sorry.”

“It happens,” Cat says, calmer than she actually feels. She lays one hand on Kara’s cheek and kisses her. “Be quick, and join me in the shower.”

Kara takes off at warp speed, leaving just a breeze in her wake. Cat heads into the en-suite and searches the shower for any signs of little legs and webs. Nothing. Of course. It’s probably just a freak coincidence. 

Stepping under the hot stream of water, Cat reaches back awkwardly to touch her shoulder. No residue, nothing irregular at all. She shakes her head at the uneasy feeling and busies herself humming under the spray until Kara reappears.

***

Kara has an uneasy feeling about the silk she’s found in Cat’s shirt, but she doesn’t dare say anything out loud. Hours later, when they’re both sated and Cat has fallen into a deep sleep marooned amongst the pillows and rumpled sheets, Kara sneaks back out to the roof where the shirt is waiting for her.

“It can’t be,” she says to herself, scanning the silk with her x-ray vision. It’s definitely tougher than any domestic species, the thickness of the strands alone explaining why Cat had difficulty removing her shirt. Her first instinct is to fly across town to the museum, and check for herself that every specimen is accounted for. No, it doesn’t make sense when her lab tech, Winn, will do a full Monday morning census anyway. There’s no venom, no real risk to anything other than Kara’s concentration. 

She slips back into bed, pulling Cat close. There’s nothing to worry about, Kara tells herself once more, and lets sleep claim her.

***

Cat feels strange in the morning, that faintly aching way her body has before catching the flu. That is absolutely not an option, not with CatCo having one of its busiest ever quarters. Maybe she over-exerted herself keeping up with a superpowered woman who hasn’t even hit her thirties yet. Not that Cat would ever admit such a thing out loud.

It’s why she can’t quite rein in the cranky when they finally surface for breakfast with Carter, who’s fully recharged after a night’s sleep. Usually it would make Cat’s heart skip a beat to see how comfortable he is around Kara already, but in the bright light of Sunday morning, it seems closer to him acting out for an audience. 

“Mom. Mooooom?” 

“Yes, sweetheart?” She tries her best to keep it from being snappish. 

“Can I have a soda with breakfast? Please?” Contrary to popular belief, Cat isn’t entirely rigid on the diet she allows in her house. Carter can have sugar and other ‘treats’ in moderation, although she’s careful never to use that kind of language about it. All that sugar at breakfast has never been an option though, and the cheeky grin on his face says he knows that fine well.

“There’s juice right here,” Kara says, lifting the pitcher of orange juice she just poured from. “You want some?”

“Have juice, Carter,” Cat says. She lifts her arms up over her head to stretch out her back again, the first round in the bedroom having not quite done the trick. 

“But I _want_ soda,” Carter insists, and there’s just that momentary flashed of brat that Cat has worked so hard to avoid for him. Of course she wants him to have every advantage her money can provide, but she doesn’t intend to spoil him either. His sweet nature has mostly saved them from that, but every so often the Grant privilege raises its head. Or starts making a beeline for the refrigerator.

Kara is watching on, helpless for once. She can save people from burning buildings, but has no idea whether or not to intervene in this domestic squabble. It would be endearing, if Cat were in a better mood.

“Hey Kara, do you want a soda too?” Carter asks as he reaches for the handle on the fridge door, but the moment his hand makes contact with the metal surface, he finds the door pressed shut.

By a strand of vibrating white silk.

The other end of which is still attached to Cat’s palm. She’d made the gesture in sheer frustration on seeing Carter ignore her instruction and now the room is deathly silent as they all stare at this new development.

“O… kay,” Kara finally speaks up. “So we might need a new working hypothesis.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cat has to act, and she's going to need help. Kara, for her part, has some researching and some 'splaining to do.

“I don’t think we need any such thing,” Cat corrects, and with a few experimental flicks of her wrist, the silk retracts and disappears. “Carter, take some juice into the living room. And if you say even one word in protest, it’s a month without X-Box. Clear?”

Carter does as he’s told, muttering under his breath a little as he goes. She’ll have to fix that, and quickly, but the pressing urge is to not confront the blaring new development that is crowding out every rational thought. 

Spider. Silk. Nope, not finishing the thought. Not looking at her hands. And definitely, positively, not looking anywhere near Kara.

“So, okay, clearly what’s happening here is just--”

“Kara.” Cat stops her with one word, holding her hand up so there’s no misunderstanding. “I’d like you to leave now.”

“But--”

“Dr. Danvers, please.” Cat can’t process this with someone else in the room, someone she’s come to care for so quickly and so deeply. The fact that this--whatever it is--might be the fault of the one person she’s allowed through her carefully guarded walls, the first person in almost a decade… it doesn’t bear thinking about. Cat certainly knows better than to trust her temper. It’s hair-trigger at the best of times.

Kara gets up from the table, and in one of her quiet little whooshes, reappears with her bag and the rest of her clothes to stuff in it. 

“You know where I am if you need anything.” Cat looks at her properly then, sees the defiant tilt of Kara’s chin. That regal bearing, those shoulders born for responsibility: how had Cat ever missed it thanks to a pair of glasses and some Dockers?

A half-snort of acknowledgement is all Cat can muster, and she doesn’t watch Kara walk away. Cat needs to talk to someone--no, scream at someone--but this seems like something that might break the only therapist she’s been able to keep for more than six months. 

Before she can even think about her own inconvenience, there’s a much more matter. Pulling out her phone, she’s relieved when her fingertips don’t stick to the screen. 

“Marcus?” She asks, as soon as he picks up. “I know it’s not your night, not even your week, but…” He interrupted, impatient with her as ever. “Yes, I need you to take Carter. No, I don’t have plans. Marcus, I don’t know if it’s safe for him to be around me right now, and I am not taking the risk.”

She lets him rant, waiting for the telltale jingle of him picking up his car keys before hanging up. That just leaves Carter, already sulking and confined to his room. Whatever happens in the next twenty minutes, Cat already knows she can’t get angry. These strange happenings, these powers, all seem to do terrible and unexpected things under stress. She can’t risk anything hitting or hurting Carter. She’d throw herself off the balcony right now if it were the only way to prevent it. Instead she knocks on his bedroom door, relieved right down to her toes when there’s a grumbled ‘come in’. 

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry that things got so out of control back there--”

“Did you send Kara away?” He demands, sitting on the edge of his bed, feet swinging back and forth. “It wasn’t her fault, Mom.”

“This is not about blame,” Cat lies, something she tries not to do to her son unless strictly necessary. “But we both saw back there that something strange is happening with me. I don’t have any answers, and while I would never normally ask you to keep secrets from your father, this time you can’t say a word, Carter. Can you promise me that? It has to be our secret. Yours and mine…”

“And Kara’s,” he finishes brightly. “I promise, Mom. But I won’t see Dad until Friday, so it’s okay.”

“He’s coming over now. No, Carter, no.” He’s on his feet, ready with the protests she knows so well. “I know how important it is that we stick to the routine, but I need to find out what has happened to me, and I am not risking that with you in the house. It’s not up for discussion, just like that time Kim Kardashian found you at soft play and asked you to ask me if I would give her a talk show on CatCo. Understood?”

Carter mutters something in response.

“Again, please. Louder, Carter.” 

“I said it must be bad if you’re talking about a Kardashian,” he says, standing up but stuffing his hands in his pockets and kicking at the carpet that has the design of their galaxy woven through it. “Do I really have to go? I could help you work out if you have powers! I know lots about it.”

“I’m sure you do.” Cat wants so badly to touch him, to reach out and cup one of those rosy cheeks in her hand, and tell them both that everything is going to be okay. “But until I can be sure there’s nothing dangerous, I need to be alone.”

“Can I pack a bag for dad’s?”

“He already has a full set of your clothes, and the same sheets, everything to make your rooms the same,” Cat reminds him. “But if there are extra things, then by all means. A Grant rarely travels light.”

“Is Kara going to help work it out?” Carter asks, grabbing his backpack from school and starting to sift through its contents. “She must know more than anyone.”

“There are other experts,” Cat reassures, although she’s finding it hard to think of anyone else either in arachnology or Kryptonian lore. Superman and Supergirl have been less than forthcoming over the years. There is one option, but it’s a favor Cat feels an almost unbearable reluctance to call in.

Then Marcus is at the door, and Carter’s tears come so freely that it’s quite a production to dispatch both father and son across town to his modest bachelor pad, one that Cat has only set foot in once, to assess its safety for her son. 

What’s worse, in the end, is being alone. The expanse of Sunday stretches out in front of her, and there’s only so long Cat can distract herself with physical tasks. She pulls the sheets from the bed, the scent of herself, of Kara, of her and Kara still clinging to the silk. Everything she can remember touching is summarily dispatched down the garbage chute in bag after bag, but no matter how much she lifts or moves, Cat is watching her hands for any signs of stickiness, of residue no matter how faint. 

Checking her messages is a purgatory she can’t afford, but she does appreciate the one from Marcus that confirms Carter is safely home and settled. The second message, asking for details, is summarily ignored along with the two-hourly missives from a certain well-meaning arachnologist. 

Research has always been Cat’s salvation, her ability to sniff out the lesser-known facts and make the brilliant connections is actually far more honed than her writing skills. Something she’d absolutely die before admitting. Still, they didn’t give prizes for the best logical leap in the footnotes of a journal article, or the most adept chain of Google search terms to turn up the unexpected. They gave prizes for writing, presenting, producing, and Cat had built a career on all of those. The foundation to all of it though was the good old-fashioned work on background, and she found as much comfort in it as she did useful information. 

By the time five pm rolls around, her stomach rumbling faintly, Cat pulls off her reading glasses only to have them bond instant with a gummy spurt from her fingertips. Wincing at the vocabulary her mind seems to be settling on, all of it a tad too close to ejaculatory for comfort, Cat takes the fresh symptom as a sign that she’s going to need outside expertise. 

She scrolls the contacts on her phone slowly, the stickiness rendering the touchscreen practically useless until she has the foresight to use the rubber tip on a pencil instead. It takes longer than it should to relent and press the name that can shed some light on all of this. A favor that Cat would much rather not feel beholden for, not at this stage in her life.

Glancing at the baby picture of Carter on her desk, hours old and nestled in her arms, Cat feels her usual resolve return. The problem will be solved, victory will be secured. It’s what she does.

Tapping the eraser against the tempered glass, she places the call, counting the rings until it’s answered.

One.

Two. Hmm. Longer than expected.

Three.

Fo--

“Lillian Luthor.”

***

Kara paces her lab, the glass case containing only one Kryptonian spider taking pride of place on the workbench. Lights blaze from every bulb in the room, as though illumination alone will bring a stroke of genius.

She has Winn and his new intern, the strange guy that everyone just seems to call ‘Brainy’ despite his security pass and email account surely being in some kind of real name, scouring the facility with detection equipment. Any sign of arachnid life and they’ll spot it, but so far they’ve only been radioing in false alarms. 

“Oh Jor-El, where is she?” Kara asks the remaining spider, perfectly docile as he stretches his legs over a round, flat rock. “How did I not know you two could bite? I saw no evidence of fangs on you.”

As though listening, Jor bristles in the direction of where Kara is staring into his tank and reveals his recessed teeth just for a second. It would seem they’ve always been able to deploy them, but there hadn’t been much point when their only handler was a fellow Kryptonian with unbreakable skin on this planet. 

Years of notes are stacked on the table, most of them considered a low priority for digitizing. Kara has kept notebooks from the moment she found both creatures stashed away in her pod, but documenting her teenage observations about them has never seemed like a priority. How she regrets that now. Almost as much as she regrets not doing a rigorous check of her clothes and belongings for a stowaway spider; she’d just been too excited about getting to see Cat.

“Hey,” Alex says after an intern shows her into the lab. She’s dressed for yoga, clearly on her way to her regular class with Maggie. Kara vows there and then not to interrupt the day with her problems, but Alex is already on the trail.

“Why are you working on a Sunday?” Alex asks. “They find a nine-legged spider or something?”

Kara glares at her, continuing to speed read her notes.

“Seriously, what’s got a bug up your ass?” Alex says with a snort, coming to sit in the chair on the opposite of Kara’s desk. “Because honestly? You look freaked out enough that it’s kind of freaking me out.”

“Alex, go have your Sunday. Have yoga and boring vegan food with Maggie, and be grateful your life isn’t a disaster area, okay?”

“Uh oh.” Alex leans in. “Straight to melodrama. That means it’s your dating life. What did your fancy CEO girlfriend do?”

“She didn’t do anything, and it’s nothing to do with Carter, either. Before you start about getting attached to someone else’s kid.”

Alex holds her hands up in surrender. “I wasn’t going there, I swear. There is something, though. Which means you screwed it up. So spill, what’s your big dating faux pas? Talking about spider eggs over dinner again?”

“That was one time and it was relevant to the conversation!” Kara can’t help but defend herself, even if that was one of her least successful outings. “This is big, Alex. And I can’t talk to you about it, because it’s not my business to share, okay?”

They fall silent for a couple of minutes, Kara still flipping through pages until she alights on an old journal article about silk production. That might come in handy, and so she sets it aside.

“So, I was thinking about telling Maggie about my real job,” Alex says to break the silence. “Because I’m pretty sure we’re going to move in together for real, and I don’t want there to be any secrets.”

Kara snaps her head up at that. The deal is they both pretend Alex is a regular FBI agent, doing routine work on some domestic terrorism taskforce, and it’s mutually agreed that work itself isn’t something they share much about, apart from bitching about annoying coworkers. Alex’s real job was revealed around the time Kara started using her powers, in that little window before Supergirl became a thing. Honestly, it still stings a little that Alex works for the DEO, when their default policy towards aliens is one of mistrust and hostility. No matter how well she explains it, or how often they reluctantly work together, Kara insists on even thinking of Alex’s job as FBI and nothing else, the better to steer clear of complicated feelings. 

“Must be pretty serious,” is her only answer. It doesn’t seem to satisfy Alex, who gets up and starts to walk around. 

“Hey, where’s your other Kryptospider?”

Kara wishes Alex wouldn’t call them that. 

“She, uh, might have gone AWOL?” Kara tries very hard to keep her voice netural, barely a waver to it at all. “No big deal, she’ll come back when she’s ready. Or if her lifespan is coming to a natural end, she may have sought out somewhere private to pass.”

“I thought that was cats?” Alex spins around, the hint of a mystery tugging at her. 

“Well, all behaviour has to be observed,” Kara hedges. “Maybe it will be a spider thing, too.”

“Kara, please tell me what’s wrong with you.” Alex is right by her side all of a sudden. “You’re pale, you look so upset. You’re almost… human.”

Pulling off her glasses, Kara pinches the bridge of her nose and leans back in her desk chair. “I really shouldn’t be saying anything, but I’m starting to think I’m going to need your help.”

“Fire away,” Alex insists, patting Kara on the shoulder. “There’s nothing we can solve between us.”

***

Cat steps off the elevator just after nine on Monday and blanches at the number of armed guards, two for every doorway. Lillian hasn’t gotten any less paranoid, then. 

Speaking of whom, the woman herself emerges from behind a heavy mahogany door marked ‘CEO’ in ostentatious gold, the office suite the antithesis of the open-plan glass construction at CatCo. In black as always, Lillian’s blonde hair is pulled back in its trademark chignon, but Cat notes the unhidden touches of grey at her temples, the additional lines around her eyes and mouth that she hasn’t had lasered or tucked out of sight. Good for her. 

“Cat.” Lillian extends a hand, no jewelry at her wrists beyond a heavy silver watch, a man’s Rolex unless Cat is much mistaken. Other people might assume it was Lionel’s, but the glimpse of a crack on its face suggests this souvenir is of Lillian’s far more notorious son. “I confess, even after your call I didn’t think I’d see you down here.”

“We’re practically neighbors,” Cat insists, adjusting her blood-red pencil skirt as she follows Lillian into the office, their stiletto heels clicking in tandem on the marble floors. “I suppose I could have popped over any time. Your small private army permitting, of course.”

“Oh, you get used to it,” Lillian says, nodding towards the corridor and its population of guards and machine guns. “Despite my best attempts to legitimise LuthorCorp, there are still a few people out there so threatened by Lex that… well, I don’t have to tell you the details, do I? I can always read them in the pages of the Trib.”

Cat knew better than to wince in acknowledgement of the paper’s objective and fair reporting, something Lillian no doubt felt was unduly biased. She has weathered much worse in the name of friendship, and Cat needs someone she can rely on now. If it’s someone who’ll do it for personal gain rather than as a simple favor, then so much the better.

“How’s your extraterrestrial research these days?” Cat asks, taking a seat in the visitor’s chair and crossing her legs. She must be the picture of nonchalance. “I know that took a lot of reworking on your part. Especially after your little flirtation with… less than welcoming alien tech?”

“I’m a reformed woman these days, surely you know that?” Lillian fires back, her posture ramrod straight in her leather chair and her hands folded in her lap. Cat doesn’t miss the tensing, the way Lillian’s knuckles whiten. “I’ve done everything I can to assist the government in helping visitors to this planet. And there’s no new research on ways to fight aliens, if that’s what you’re here for.”

“Do I seem the type to resort to a fistfight with a visiting Silurian?” Cat demands, with a little snort of indignation. 

“I learned a long time ago not to ask what you’ve been up to with your fists,” Lillian replies, just a hint of daring about it. “Then how can I help? I assume you’d rather get it over with than exchange small talk?”

“I need a specialist in Kryptonian… something. Biology, physiology… almost definitely an -ology. Unless it’s chemistry. But you take my point.”

“I do have someone on staff, but it’s not her primary focus,” Lillian leans forward to tap at something on her screen. “She does have unbeatable knowledge of the subject all the same. I will warn you, she’s not always keen on working with new people. How she’ll react to a journalist, I couldn’t say…”

“I’m not asking as a journalist,” Cat clarifies, although it would have been the perfect cover. “I just need information. And I can pay for her time, of course.”

“What kind of friend would let you pay?” Lillian scoffs. “Anything you need is on LuthorCorp’s dime, naturally. Although there is one condition--”

“Name it,” Cat says, unwilling to show weakness at this crucial point. “I can give you anything that doesn’t compromise the objectivity of my publications, you know that.”

“Whatever you two discuss she can keep records on. Confidential ones, and you won’t be named anywhere in them. I figure it’s something particularly groundbreaking if you’re reaching out to me, Cat. So forgive me if I don’t want potential intel slipping through my fingers.”

Damn. She should have expected this. The whole sticky silk secret powers mess has Cat a little off her game. She tries to quickly run through the angles, but anonymity might be protection enough for now. It’s not as though she’ll have to disclose everything to this lab monkey to get answers anyway. 

“Very well.” She stands, having gotten what she came for. “Thank you, Lillian. I had a feeling I could count on you. Your people should contact my assistant, but I’ll make time as soon as your scientist is ready.”

“She works under my daughter, Lena. I’ll make her available to you from this afternoon, if your assistants can handle that. And Cat?”

“Yes?” It ruins her dramatic turn and exit, but Cat covers that small disappointment with a sigh.

“If you’re in trouble of the alien kind, it may not be my line of work anymore, but I do have contacts who can help with… threats.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Cat replies, thinking of Kara with a guilty pang. No amount of irritation or fear has been able to banish thoughts of her from Cat’s mind. “But thank you for the thought.”

She steps out into the hallway, not flinching at the sight of the guards this time, and takes the elevator back into the world outside LuthorCorp.


End file.
